


fools

by IKHoldrige73



Series: you're the best thing (i never knew i needed) [1]
Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), DC Animated Universe, DCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Crossover, F/M, M/M, but maybe you can pressure me into doing so, everyone loves coffee shop aus thanks, i don't have anything else finished but this part, it's nice and fluffy, the coffee shop that turned out to be a complete universe on its own, this one isn't heartbreaking i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:13:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IKHoldrige73/pseuds/IKHoldrige73
Summary: Barry Allen isn't known for his punctuality, but with a new job and new people to impress, he's been trying his best to arrive at the CCPD on time. After a long night of evidence revision, however, Barry doesn't make it on time to an early case, and gets saddled with coffee duty for an entire week. He'd complain about it, but at least the barista is cute enough.





	1. those hardest to love need it most

**Author's Note:**

> It's started off as a small, innocent coffee shop AU but it jumped out of my hands and became an entire universe on its own; now it's a series about two idiots meeting in a coffee shop and then the adventures that ensue once their two group of friends mix together. It also had an instagram account to go with it, but I had a few problems with it and had to deactivate it so who knows when it will come back. This one's the only part I've actually worked with thoroughly, but maybe, if you guys like it, I can be forced to write the next parts of the coffee shop AU 
> 
> Hope you like this shiny new thing I have!

It was only Barry’s second week at the CCPD.

His lab mates had been pretty welcoming towards him, asking questions about him with sincerity lacing every word, and making him feel as warm and comfortable as was possible being that he was only a kid fresh out of college. Barry appreciated everyone at the lab helping him adjust into the new environment, but he really couldn’t say the same for the rest of the precinct.

It was hard enough to be a young man in a place full of older, more professional scientists, but then when he first met the squad he’d be working with for the most part, he just felt itty bitty tiny around them.

He had been warned by his fellow lab partners that being a forensic in a room full of cops was probably the hardest part of their job. The officers and detectives were well intentioned—or at least they all hoped it was that way—but they constantly came across as rude and commanding when they asked things from the forensic division. It seemed as if cops had no idea how hard it was to test a blood sample or run a diagnosis of a body, and they constantly expected the forensic team to be as fast as or faster than even they could be.

So Barry had taken it upon himself to get on everyone’s good sides.

He cracked lame jokes that mostly backfired on him, made it his personal mission to get to know the squad he’d be working with, tried really hard to be on time to any and all of the debriefings taking place at the station, and generally hoped that his friendliness was enough to let the hard-trained cops let him into the close-knit family they had constructed among each other.

So far, he had gone without incidents.

Up until the point there was one.

It was near to the end of the week, and Barry was almost ready to proclaim this week as the second week without no incidents—a week closer to finally being well received in the CCPD, he wistfully thought—but it seemed as if fate had other plans for him.

Come Friday morning, he slept through all of his five alarms. He had been putting his most annoying ringtones in order to actually wake up, but it seemed that, after a night of going over old case files in his kitchen counter, any and all of his efforts to be on time for morning briefing fell through like a house of cards in the middle of a wind storm.

When he opened his eyes to bright sunlight seeping in through the crack in his curtains and rolled over to stare quizzically at the digital clock in his nightstand, Barry swore he could’ve had a hard attack. Red digits glared at him, displaying 8:42 am and officially making him over an hour late to work.

Kicking the blankets off his body, Barry tried not to hit too many things around his apartment as he tried to ready himself for the day. He snatched his phone from the nightstand where he had dropped it the night before, cursing under his breath when he realized he hadn’t bothered to connect it for the night’s charge and therefore, had no battery to send out an urgent text to Patty Spivot at the lab.

He bit back his urge to whine pathetically, hopping around idiotically as he tried to get his pants on as fast as was humanly possible, shoes coming soon after. He knew he was going to get yelled at, that much was sure, but Barry also knew that he didn’t want to fuck this even more by being later than he already was.

Closing the door behind him, Barry cursed himself this time for not owning a car, and sprinted down the stairwell and out to the bustling streets of Central City, all the while hoping he could keep his job.

//Monday I//

At the end, he was only stuck with coffee duty for the following week.

His lab mates had thankfully picked up his slack for him, creating believable excuses that Barry then had to wholeheartedly confirm when asked, and Allen couldn’t possibly be more grateful for the small group of people who worked next to him in the lab.

Despite that, his squad still seemed pretty upset with him over being almost two hours late, and the four person group saddled him for coffee duty for the next week in order to pay for his late run. They scribbled down their coffee orders on a piece of paper, tucking it in Barry’s sweater pocket, and smiled sweetly at him as if they were doing him a huge favor.

He could get coffee. He’d be alright.

Except, of course, that if he wanted to get his squad’s coffee and still be on time for work, he had to wake up even earlier than usual, and Barry wasn’t a hundred percent sure that he was going to be able to get out of bed at such a god forsaken hour.

Nevertheless, Allen gave it his best to be ready at his squad’s preferred coffee shop at 6:15 am, a full forty-five minutes before he had to clock in to work, and ready to carry four ridiculously concocted coffees to appease four grumpy detectives at the precinct.

The place was small and homey, and it reminded Barry of the kind of place where all those romance novels take place in. He smiles a little bit at his own silly thought, standing next in line behind a short line of four people. A small red head woman who seemed all business and no smiles is leading the line, ordering something that sounded fairly normal and not at all like the ridiculous coffee his squad sent him to fetch.

Barry stares at her curiously, and wonders if she’s one of the many stereotypical business folk that just doesn’t care. He can’t see the barista on the other side of the counter, but Allen hears his voice as he tells her a really cheesy pick-up line that Barry is certain is going to get the barista a bout of yelling or something equally annoying.

Barry is proven wrong when the woman brings her hand up and laughs at the cheesy attempt, shaking her head fondly and saying something back in return along the same lines. She seems to be pretty at ease with the barista, joking back and forth a little before a drink materializes in her hand. Tiny Business Lady puts down her pay and an extra tip in the jar to her left, waving good bye at the barista as she disappears behind the glass door.

The next couple of costumers seems to be getting the same friendly treatment, and Barry’s curiosity only grows. Apparently The Barista knows most of these people by name and doesn’t need to be reminded what they’re here for—regulars, apparently, and Barry starts feeling a little awkward because he is, once again, the new guy around here.

But then his turn finally comes as College Student moves aside to allow him to walk up to the counter—a counter way too high in his opinion, he wonders how Tiny Business Lady reached the tip jar—and he takes his first good look at The Barista.

He realizes maybe his squad _was_ doing him a favor; he just didn’t realize it until this exact point.

Barry stares at The Barista for a little too long, trying to keep every single feature memorized so he could replay this particular moment in his mind throughout the whole day and not worry about anything. This man was gorgeous, and Barry took his sweet time to have that brown hair and those brown eyes—and he was sure there were some flickers of gold close to the pupil, but maybe he was seeing things—engraved into the back of his eyelids.

“—gonna stand there all day and look at me or are you actually going to order something?” The Barista’s voice breaks through his reverie, and Barry can already feel himself blushing up to the tips of his ears.

He stutters out a couple of words that make no sense together, cursing himself in his head for being such an idiot about a pretty face, and starts fumbling for the neatly folded paper in his sweater pocket. The Barista watches him with amused eyes, lips curling up into a small smile as he watches the forensic scientist make a fool out of himself in front of the line—god, Barry’s morning couldn’t get any worse than this.

But it can.

Letting out a small laugh, The Barista leans over the counter, possibly jumping a little in order to reach Barry’s sweater pocket and pulling out the small paper himself. Barry just stares at him like he just grew another head, but doesn’t make any more movements once The Barista is in his personal bubble

“I suppose you were fetching this,” he says, brandishing the paper like it’s some sort of ancient scroll “Four orders—let’s see.”

Barry doesn’t utter a word as The Barista goes through the small list in the piece of paper, something akin to recognition flashing in his eyes with every new line he reads. Before Allen realizes, the man is grinning, hopping off he counter where he had been hanging to reach Barry’s sweater pocket, and he starts to work with the several machines around him.

“So, new officer at the station?” he asks, and Barry doesn’t know if The Barista is actually talking to him “Why aren’t Detectives Singh or Forrest or even Baz here to fetch their coffee and the Captain’s? Usually I get one of them at this ungodly hour of the morning.”

Barry realizes The Barista is talking to him, and he fumbles a bit with his words before he can gather his own ideas “I’m new at the lab,” he says, shuffling awkwardly in his place, suddenly conscious of the line of people behind him “I was a little late for work last week so I’m stuck with coffee runs until this week ends.”

The Barista pokes his head behind one of the machines and smiles at him “Welcome to the force then, mister…” he trails off at the end, hesitation lacing his voice “Sorry, is it Officer or Detective or what am I supposed to call a forensic scientist?”

“Barry,” he blurts out stupidly, and wants to face-palm himself for being such an idiot “I mean, my name is Barry, don’t go around calling every forensic scientist Barry, that’s not what…”

He lets himself just trail off after that, hearing the woman behind him snicker softly and trying to cover it up with a cough. Barry turns over his shoulder to eye her for a little bit, but can’t find it in himself to get angry at her—he did just make a fool out of himself, so she had every right to laugh if she wanted to. Not to mention she didn’t even look like her laughing was ill-intentioned.

“Barry it is,” The Barista says, calling Barry’s attention back to him “So, I’ll be seeing you here the whole week?” 

Barry smiles softly, gives a firm nod “Yeah, I’ll be coming back.”

“Good,” The Barista says, putting down the last of the drinks in one of those travel cartons to help Barry carry them over to the station “Pity it’s going to be only a week. I wouldn’t mind waking up early at all if I could see your blue eyes come through my door at this hour.” 

Barry could’ve died right then and there.


	2. we are too fragile just to guess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday came, then Wednesday after it. Barry’s crush continues to grow, and he looks for reasons to talk himself out of it.

The next morning, Barry realizes The Barista knows his name but he doesn’t know his and he’s getting real tired of having to refer to the man as The Barista in his head all the goddamn time. As he is getting ready to leave the house at six on the dot, he promises himself that this time he will get The Barista’s name so as to make their interactions a little less awkward.

(He doesn’t allow himself to think too much about The Barista’s last words to him the last time he’d been in the coffee shop. That would only make him really embarrassed and he doesn’t want that.)

When he walks into the coffee shop at almost the exact same hour as the last day, he finds some familiar faces in the line already, plus a couple more that he didn’t see before. There’s the Tiny Business Lady, behind the College Student who seemed to be a little bit earlier today, and next in line after Tiny Business Lady, Barry sees three new people that he didn’t encounter the day before.

The Barista however seems to know these three new individuals as well as he knows College Student and Tiny Business Lady—would be nice to know their names as well, if he’s being honest—as he whips out their drinks with ease and puts them down on the counter with an easy smile. He seems to enjoy his work, talking with people the most out of everything else, and in turn that gets him bigger tips out of costumers.

When its Barry’s turn, he has to talk himself out of thinking that The Barista is actually excited to see him, because the man instantly brightens up the moment his eyes fall on Allen. Barry sighs a little, wrings his hands together in front of him for a moment before he pulls himself together and smiles back at The Barista.

“Morning,” he greets the other man, and puts down the pre-prepared list of coffees down on the counter “Hope you don’t mind, but some people at the lab caught up with my job this week and demanded some coffee be brought to them as well as a thank you for covering my butt last week.”

The Barista actually laughs, leaning back from the counter a little, and Barry uses that moment to read the name tag. He could always ask the man for his name, but Barry is a shy little scientist like that, and he’s not going to risk saying something super embarrassing while asking for his name.

“Its fine,” Hal says, and wow, that’s a nice name “I do this for a living, a couple of more coffees is no problem at all.”

With one last grin towards the blonde, Hal grabs the folded paper in the counter in front of him, opening it up and reading the other three coffee orders, memorizing them to use them the rest of the week. Barry is a little bit infatuated with the way brunet eyebrows meet at the middle of Hal’s brow, face pinching in concentration and making the man look absolutely breathtaking that way.

Ugh, Barry needs to get his stupid crush under control.

“Any of these for you, Bar?” Hal asks, ducking under one of the machines to start his work.

The nickname takes Barry aback, but he tries not to let it show “No, I don’t really drink a lot of coffee,” he confesses, and feels a little ashamed by it for no reason “It makes me too antsy, and I already have too much energy to deal with.”

Hal hums behind the machine, putting down another one of the drinks down on the two carriers “Pity; the cute customer doesn’t like the one thing I live for. Literally.”

Barry tries not to let it get to him, but he can’t help it when he’s blushing right to the tip of his ears (again), and the man in line behind him doesn’t even try to hide his laughter.

He doesn’t say anything after that, and just patiently waits for the rest of the drinks to come out. Hal has a weird expression in his face, like he’s proud he made the poor newbie forensic blush to the tip of his ears two days in a row and with just a short sentence. Barry thinks it isn’t quite the accomplishment, of course, because he blushes for absolutely everything, but Hal probably doesn’t know that.

He thanks the barista with a small, ashamed smile and leaves Hal a bigger tip than the day before because he feels the man deserves it—also, Barry can’t keep his crush contained anymore—and turns tail and leaves before Hal can actually say anything back to him. As he pushes the door to walk back out into the street, he can hear the man behind him say something to Hal in between laughter, and he tries not to think too much about it.

“Back at it again, eh, Hal? One of this days this flirting will get back at you.”

He tries to think even less about Hal’s answer.

“If its Blue Eyes, then bring it on, John.” 

//

Blue Eyes.

Hal already knows his name, so Barry cannot comprehend why he’d use that nickname or why it sounds like he was capitalizing it the same way he had been referring to Hal in his head as The Barista before he found out his name. Once again, Barry forces himself not to think about the implications of that, and goes back to focusing all his attention on the blood sample he's supposed to be testing for Detective Baz.

It's no use to be thinking about it either way, because Hal is probably that flirty with absolutely everyone he meets. Barry has actually seen it, with the Tiny Business Lady and then again with College Student and basically with everyone else in the line that Barry had ever seen or interacted with for short seconds.

Little ol' Barry Allen isn't all that--

"That's done, you know?" Castillo tells him over his shoulder, smiling softly at him when Barry turns to look up at him bewildered "Are you okay, Allen? Anything on your mind?"

Barry stares at his lab mate for a little while, looking at León Castillo staring at him with actual concern written across his features. The blond man never really expected to be welcomed with such warmth the way his fellow forensic scientists had received him, but he was very glad to have such people working with him.

"It’s fine," Barry assures León, smiling pleasantly "I was just a little out of it."

Castillo's eyes don't falter right away, but they do soften into something a little more relaxed when the younger forensic scientist assures him everything is fine.

"So, do you have the ballistics’ report? Singh has been harassing me for those."

//

Third day, Barry goes in slightly convinced that Hal is not interested and he's only trying to earn his tips.

The moment he steps into the coffee shop, he realizes something is amiss almost immediately. He doesn't hear Hal's voice chatting up the costumers, and Tiny Business Lady is too preoccupied with her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder to be in any sort of conversation with the barista.

Allen had gotten a little later than usual today and had found a longer line, but it seemed to be moving pretty fast since Hal wasn't stopping to chat with his customers anymore. It was a little off-putting for Barry, but at least he wasn't going to get late to the office because he woke up later.

Barry furrows his brow, because later he _can_ actually hear Hal talking to someone, but it’s obvious by Tiny Business Lady's quick departure that this time he's not talking to the costumers. College Student is right in front of Barry, and he actually leans to one side to check what's going on at the front of the line.

College Student lets out an amused huff, shaking his head as he leans back into his place "Of course--Tony is here."

Barry can't help the confused squeak that comes out from his lips, and he feels his face get increasingly hotter when the younger man turns to look at him with a soft, amused smile.

"Tony," he repeats, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world "He comes in when he's in the city, but he doesn't like getting too much attention so we all know better than to hound him about who he is and stuff like that."

The forensic scientist tries to think of all the famous people he knows that are named Tony, but he suddenly forgets absolutely everything about all the people he may or may not know about. College Student offers him another smile, and pats his shoulder twice.

"He's pretty cool," the younger man continues "But he likes to hog Hal's attention whenever he's here to visit. I suppose they don't get to see each other a lot since Hal lives here and he lives all the way in Malibu, so we just let them be for the day."

"How do you know all of this?" Barry blurts out, genuinely curious about College Student's impressive abilities of detection "I mean--I, uh..."

College Students laughs a little, shakes his head "I've been coming and going for a very long time," he says simply, and steps forward when another costumer leaves with their order and no small-talk from Hal.

Barry's companion shuts up then, and they both await for their turn to come.

Finally, it's College Student's turn, and Barry takes his first actual look at this _Tony_ his younger companion had been talking about a few minutes ago. He tries not to gasp at the mere presence of _Tony Stark_ , but hates himself for the way his eyes widen when they fall upon the young CEO standing on the other side of the counter, next to Hal.

"Ah, a familiar face! Finally! Morning, Kyle!" Tony greets the college student--new name, added to the coffee shop list--and Barry realizes what Kyle had meant with his earlier explanation about coming and going since a long time ago "Haven't seen you in a while, kid! Hal tells me you're in college now!"

Kyle smiles brightly at the man on the other side of the counter "Hey, Tony, good to see you around the coffee shop again," he turns to Hal then "Aw, Hal, are you showing me off like a proud mama bear, now?"

Barry thinks Hal's cheeks look _great_ with pink dusting them "Shut up, Rayner. Tony asked for the news, and I think it’s pretty big news that you finally got your ass out of high school and into art school."

" _Art_ school, Kyle?" Tony looks extremely offended by this, turning his body to fully address the college student "Kyle, I thought we had _something_! I thought you said you would like to work with me one day! Did you lie to me just to spare my feelings?"

Kyle laughs a little, rolls his eyes as he takes his drink from Hal's hands "No, Tony. Of course I would love to one day work with you, but who's to say I can't do that as an art major? Technological design is still a thing, you know?"

Tony pouts a little--and is _this_ Stark Industries new CEO?—sticking his tongue out at Kyle when the college student backs up from the counter and winks an eye at him "I thought you liked engineering, you little punk. You had me believe you liked engineering! Come back here, Rayner! Your father wants words with you!"

But Kyle isn't listening anymore, waving a hand in the air as he departs the coffee shop while taking a long sip from his coffee. Barry's eyes follow after Kyle and he wonders momentarily why Kyle wasn't more impressed with being known by Tony Stark himself.

"Hey, Bar," there's that _nickname_ again "Same as usual?"

Barry turns back to smile at Hal, nodding, and if the barista notices any of the tightness around his lips, he really doesn't say anything about it.

Stark, however, _does_ say something "Bar? What's that short for? _Bartholomew_?"

The forensic scientist tries not to take it too personally, and he's sure Tony was aiming for a light hearted joke here, but the reality is otherwise "Actually, yeah--Bar from Barry," he says, turning to make eye contact with SI's golden boy "Barry from _Bartholomew_."

Tony stares right into his eyes for a while, but he doesn't seem apologetic "Better than Harold, right?"

Hal pokes his head out from behind the coffee machine he's working on, and glares at Tony "Shut the hell up _, Anthony Edward Stark_. You lose when it comes to ridiculous names."

"My name is _long_ ," Tony says, turning away from Barry to stare fully at the barista "But it is _not_ ridiculous. My mother made sure dad didn't name me _Howard_."

" _That_ would've been a pity," Hal tosses back, putting down the first two drinks in front of Barry "Imagine that, though, what the hell would I even call you? _Howie_?"

Tony grimaces, leans back a little bit and shakes his head as if he's _absolutely_ opposed to the idea "No," he says once, simply "No way, we're not doing that. My name is Tony and that's that, Jordan."

Hal grins at him, whipping out a third drink, and Barry realizes he's being completely ignored "Maybe I should start calling you Eddie," the barista tells his _friend_ , complete with a waggle of his eyebrows "Eddie Stark," he stops for a minute there, like something occurred to him suddenly "I heard from Kyle that they address Eduardos as _Lalo_ , what about that?"

"No," Stark isn't grimacing anymore, but he certainly doesn't like the idea "No, _para_. Hal, I'm serious—stop asking Rayner for tips on our shared background or I will be forced to kill you before you have the chance to make another ridiculous drink."

"I think it'd be a cute pet name, _boo_ ," Hal seems too much at ease with this guy, and Barry starts to wonder if this is something else entirely and not just a bizarre friendship "Think about it! A thing only I could call you!"

Tony's eyes follow Hal's hands as he finishes drinks four and five, putting them down on the counter, and he's about to continue the banter, but he stops mid-sentence and turns to Barry one more time.

(It makes him feel a little bit scared, to be honest.)

"Why the hell do you need that much coffee, Blue Eyes?" Stark arches an eyebrow at him, looking confused as he points at the last cup of coffee on Hal's hands "That's the _seventh_ drink Haly is pouring out. Why? What is this?"

Barry opens his mouth to reply, offer his explanation, but Hal beats him to the punch.

"Okay, first," Hal begins, putting down the drink on the counter and reaching behind him for one of those travel pack Barry always leaves this place with "Do _not_ call me Haly again or I will rip off your stubble," Tony's hands come up to his chin, brow furrowing "Second, he's a _cop_ and he's on coffee duty; none of these are for him and either way you're being rude, Tones."

Tony stares at Hal for a full five seconds before rolling his eyes and looking the other way "Won't call you Haly again if you promise to never call me anything other than Tony or Tones."

The barista smiles, closes his eyes and nods, before turning back to stare at Barry and offering him a wider grin as he slides the coffee travel trays towards him. "I'm thinking we should get you like permanent travel trays--I think we're contaminating the environment exponentially with all these cardboard things."

Barry offers Hal a smile, but it comes out a little tight and uncomfortable "Yeah," he whispers, sliding down the money on the counter and taking the coffees "See you tomorrow, Hal."

He's leaving the coffee shop without another word, when a red haired guy comes into the coffee shop, holding the door for Barry out of courtesy.

"Oh no. No, no, no. Why the hell is Stark here again? Don't you have a _home_ in Malibu to go back to or something?" Red Head seems to know Tony as well, but his words don't make his heart sink as much as Tony's after do.

"Why do you want to keep me away from _my dearest,_ Guy?"

Third day, Barry leaves the coffee shop absolutely a 100% convinced that Hal is _definitely_ not interested and only trying to earn his tips.


	3. the feelings in my headspace rearranged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thursday is usually not a very good day, but a bad Friday is a real surprise. Barry calls a friend, and doesn’t get the kind of advice he expected.

He doesn't actually want to go back to the coffee shop the next day.

Barry is being childish, and he knows it, but when his alarm rings that morning, the only thing he does for the first twenty minutes is stare at the ceiling with apathy. He thinks back to the day before, and how his fears over Hal being absolutely _not_ interested were not actual fears, but _facts_.

His head is a mess, and he chastises himself silently for acting so immature over a three day crush.

It's been an hour since he's woken up, and he is now officially late to meet the usual hour he sets foot into the coffee shop. Barry pushes himself off the mattress, rolling to the edge where he just sits for a while, looking at the wall in front of him. He feels less than unmotivated to tackle the day, but he knows it’s only his fourth day out of his six day punishment over being late and he doesn't know how bad the consequences could be if he doesn't show up with coffee in his hands.

With a groan, he gets up from his bed and decides not to rush. He's not in the mood to even make it to the coffee shop, so Barry is in no real hurry.

He's about thirty minutes late when he finally steps into the coffee shop, and he doesn't get surprised when he sees a whole bunch of new people that he doesn't know anything about. Tiny Business Lady is nowhere to be seen, John from day two isn't around either, and Kyle is probably already on his way to his first class.

There are five people before him, but he can hear Hal's voice in the front and Tony's smoother tone echoing it at some points. Grimacing a little, he pulls his phone out and starts looking through his texts--Patty sent something earlier about getting a field call so she's not currently at the lab and he can forget about her coffee. He needs to appear busy so he doesn't feel like much of a fool when Hal and Tony start bantering in front of him, thus taking all of Hal's attention away.

Contrary to what he thought would happen, as soon as Barry gets to the counter, Hal snaps a hand over Tony’s mouth and _beams_ at the blond man with as much sincerity as is possible. It takes Barry by surprise, but he can’t help it when he smiles right back at the barista with as much excitement or more than the brunet had seconds prior.

“Thought you weren’t coming today,” Hal said, sounding sincere and looking a little vulnerable “When you weren’t here at six-fifteen like you normally are I thought for sure you had skipped the coffee shop entirely.”

Barry’s smile turns into something a little bit more sheepish at that, laughing softly as his nerves suddenly take over—god, the things this man do to him would be _hilarious_ if they weren’t so embarrassing.

“I guess I over-slept today,” he says simply, eyes flickering momentarily to see Tony’s reaction to him being here or anything else that might betray the CEO’s state of mind “Oh, do you mind cutting out one of the orders?”

“Sure,” Hal nods, compliant, as he removes his hands from Tony’s mouth and leans over the counter “So, who am I cutting out today? Captain Frye? Singh? I feel like Singh doesn’t deserve coffee sometimes—is it one of those days?”

Barry appreciates the light-hearted chat, but he still feels a little uneasy about Hal and Tony and his stupid crush growing stronger with each day that passes “No, it’s someone at the crime lab—Patty Spivot, the cappuccino.”

“Alright, cappuccino’s out,” Hal smiles easy at him and begins to work “So, had a bad day yesterday?”

The forensic scientist stares at Hal quizzically, eyes blown wide open at the question. Barry knows it’s ridiculous that Hal could know his conflicting thoughts from yesterday—most of which included Hal and his mysterious relationship with owner and CEO, Tony Stark—but he still feels a little bit vulnerable when the barista asks that question so offhandedly.

“I mean,” Hal continues, noticing the way Barry’s demeanor changes “Mostly when Tony over-sleeps it just means he had a terrible day the day before—or when he’s too hungover to function properly.”

Tony’s back in the conversation, and Barry feels his heart sink a little bit the moment the business entrepreneur squeaks out a denial that has no real fire behind it. Barry can’t help the empty look that takes over him when the both of them start quarreling again, and the forensic scientist just entirely dismisses the conversation in favor of paying attention to his cellphone again.

Patty has left another message, something about the crime-scene being messier than she had expected, and asking him how he does this all the time with his squad. He types out something he thinks is funny in response, and laughs a little bit when he gets a distressed text back from his co-worker. He goes to check the other messages, finds a text from Castillo asking him if he’s going to be late, and he quickly replies that he’s already on his way.

He hadn’t even realized Tony’s and Hal’s conversation had died before him, both men staring at him expectantly, drinks ready in the travelling pack that Barry is used to carrying, and Hal’s confused expression ready to make Barry feel like an utter jerk.

“Sorry,” he mutters, paying for the drinks, tipping accordingly, and pulling the drinks off the counter “I’m running a little bit late to work so you’ll excuse me if I’m more than a little off.”

(He’s doing that thing again. The thing Steve told him to stop doing where he starts addressing people formally when he’s uncomfortable or upset. Barry’s going to hurl himself out a window.)

“Yeah, no—I understand,” Hal says, but he doesn’t sound like he does “I guess I just—yeah, it’s cool. Go to work, Barry, don’t want you to be late and get stuck with coffee duty another week, right?”

Barry smiles a tight lipped smile, backs away from the counter, and leaves with no other word.

“Hal, you okay, buddy?”

If he manages to hear Tony’s question, he doesn’t say anything about it.

//

“ _Have I reminded you today that you’re being an idiot?_ ”

In retrospect, calling Steve had been his worst idea this week “Have I reminded you today that you’re being a prick?”

There’s some shuffling on the other side of the line, another voice interrupting Steve when he’s halfway through a sentence, and Barry leans back against his headboard to try and relax before his friend is back on the call. A few minutes go by, giving Allen some moments to compose himself and not just _explode_ at Rogers, so the forensic scientist thinks the interruption is a good thing for both of them.

“ _Sorry_ ,” Steve is back on the line, his other conversation having died down “ _You were telling me how much of an idiot you were being, please continue._ ”

“I’ll hang up on you if you continue to be this much of a jerk, _Steven_ ,” Barry threatens, but doesn’t really mean it.

Steve hums, almost amused, and Barry just _knows_ Steve is smiling right now “ ** _You_** _called me, Bartholomew. It would be counterproductive.”_

Barry sighs. He hates it when Steve is actually _right_ about something, because it means Barry is wrong, and that he should probably reassess most of his life decisions made up until this point. Calling Steve was seriously the most stupid idea he’s had in an eternity.

“ _Look,_ ” Steve begins again, doesn’t let him quite regain his footing “ _I know you, and I know you’re capable of thinking yourself to **death** , but please don’t make this into something it **isn’t** , Barry.” _

Barry huffs, turns around in his bed to face the opposite wall now “What am I making this into then?” he asks, almost angrily, but he knows he can’t never really get mad at Steve “I’m not making this into anything, I’m just telling you how I’ve been seeing things.”

“ _No,_ ” his army friend started again, and for all of the patience Rogers carried with him, he knew the other man was beginning to get really peeved with him “ _All of the things you’ve texted me about this guy so far have been nothing but gushing on your part—about his eyes, his floppy hair, his stupid smile, **or** the way he prepares coffee like it’s **art**.” _

Barry tries to get a word in, he really does, but Steve’s got his _Captain Rogers_ voice at the moment—the one he uses when Barry is being especially stubborn about something, which seems to be the case.

_“And then, just yesterday, I ask you what’s goin’ to happen next, and you just sigh and tell me you ain’t gonna try anythin’,”_ Barry also despises when his stupid accent gets thicker, because then it means Steve is really upset at him _“And when I ask you why, you tell me it’s because some other dude showed up and you’re a hundred percent sure they’re together even when you have literally no confirmation on that.”_

“It’s not like it’s been _denied_ either.”

Steve almost growls out in frustration, and Barry chuckles a little—he can’t really help it if making Rogers angry has been hilarious since _forever_ , bless Bucky Barnes for teaching him that.

“ _I swear to god, if I go down there next week and you haven’t invited the poor sod out to dinner by then, I’ll go right up to him and invite him for you._ ”

Steve is actually beginning to sound like Barnes, and Barry wonders if his two friends have been spending too much time together in the army. Answer's probably a yes.

“That’s the single stupidest idea you’ve—“

_“I ain’t jokin’, Allen,”_ Steve threatens, and Barry falls silent “ _Ask the guy out or **else**_.”

Yeah, he’s never calling Steve for advice again.

//

On the fifth day of his punishment, Barry actually gets a field call so early that Detective Baz tells him to forget the coffee and get to the crime scene as fast as he can.

It’s pretty standard job, what he’s there to do, but Castillo and him are thorough in their search as they poke around the victim’s body and the immediate vicinity. Barry, while still a little out of it over his Hal dilemma, shares some pleasant conversation with León while they work, cracking a couple of half-hearted jokes that Castillo is polite enough to actually chuckle at.

Allen tries not to notice the twinkle of worry in Castillo’s warm eyes.

“Allen,” Singh stops him on his way to the lab once they’re back at the precinct, “Are you making a coffee run today?”

Barry blinks at David a couple of times, eyebrows scrunching up in the middle as if he doesn’t quite understand what the detective is telling him, until it finally clicks in his head and he lets out a breathless “Oh,” before shaking his head, a little ashamed “Since I got a call this morning I didn’t have time for visiting the shop, but I can go get them if the squad wants me to? I mean, it _is_ kind of my job.”

Singh purses his lips in thought for a second “I’ll ask the squad if they want some for lunch time,” he says after a while “Go upstairs and work on the evidence meanwhile, I’ll text you what it is later.”

Allen gives one tight nod, before turning back towards the stairs and continuing his path to the lab, where Castillo was probably already waiting for him to perform the tests on the evidence they had gathered at the crime scene.

The truth was, Barry had been actually relieved with getting the call that morning from Baz, telling him to forget the coffee and get to the crime scene. Of course Barry had felt guilty about it right away, thinking it was kind of unfair to the victim’s family that he had felt _happy_ that there was a murdered body somewhere so he’d get out of his daily morning run at the coffee shop, but he still felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Morning, Bar!” Patty is the first one to greet him when he makes it to the lab, followed by acknowledging grunts from Castillo and Kramer, currently going through a particular blood test in the back of the room.

Barry nods back at Patty, smiles only barely, and then continues on to his desk to put down all his stuff. It feels a little bit weird to have skipped the whole coffee shop theatrics that morning, sure, but he’s still glad that he didn’t have to go back to see Hal’s face again. Steve could chastise him all he wanted, but he was still not going to do anything about it.

Pushing away thoughts of the barista, Barry begins working on the new case, going through the victim’s information and the evidence collected at the crime scene. The lab falls into a companionable silence, as the four forensic scientists delve into their specific tasks—the faster they finish this, the faster they all get to bring the killer to justice and go home to rest.

About ten minutes passed by in quiet when Barry’s phone beeped once on the table where he had previously left it, causing him to jump out of his focus and look at the bright screen with curious eyes. Leaning over his work to get a better look, Allen’s heart jumped in his chest when he realized it was Singh’s promised text about the coffees.

_[received; Det Singh] guess who’s gonna get coffees for lunch??_

Barry gives out a pained sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as he leans back against his seat. He was actually hoping that his squad wouldn’t want coffee since it was already too late, but Allen seemed to have underestimated the detectives’ dependence on coffee.

Opening his eyes again and reaching over to grab his phone, Barry types out his response.

_[sent; Det Singh] the usual orders, i suppose?_

//

To his surprise, Hal wasn’t there when he arrived at the coffee shop.

Barry felt terrible when the new barista—Clint, who had a hard time remembering all the orders, and threw things into the trashcan with perfect accuracy—handed him all the usual orders.


	4. i want you more than i wanted anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday is supposed to be a day to relax, and Sunday is a day for family. Barry really hates it when his friends talk to each other and gang up on him, but maybe he should be thankful for them. Hal, on the other hand, isn’t sure if he’s thankful for his friends or if he just wants to throw them all out a window.

Barry doesn’t go back to the coffee shop early in the morning the next day when Baz, one more time, tells him to forget the coffee and get his ass to the lab to continue going through the evidence found at the crime scene and through the rest of yesterday.

He feels a little bit bad that he has ditched Hal two days, but something in him tells him that he’s better off not intruding in Tony and Hal’s time together. It was bad enough that he had a stupidly unfounded crush on the coffee shop barista—it was _downright terrible_ that he was actually _jealous_ of this barista and his whatever-the-hell-Tony-Stark-was-to-him.

When Singh tells him that coffee for lunch is a possibility again, Barry only sighs, and nods once, asking his lab mates if they will be getting any. When Patty and Castillo immediately shake their heads as a refusal, followed by Kramer’s explanation about coffee at this hour yesterday being such a bad idea, Barry actually feels a little bit better.

At least he won’t be overwhelming Clint with all the orders. He had felt truly bad for the guy yesterday as he was given direction after direction, trying his damned hardest not to mess up the seven orders that came with the forensic scientist.

He’s in the precinct’s elevator when his phone starts ringing in his pocket, bringing him out of his reverie. Barry pulls out the object from his pants, sliding it a couple of times in his hand to get the screen upright. He is greeted by a picture of Iris and himself, his best friend’s name flashing at the top of the screen as his phone announces who exactly is calling him.

“ _Steve and Bucky told me you were being stubborn,_ ” Iris voice is calm, but amused, and Barry can’t help but groan at her opening sentence “ _Do **not** give me that, Barry. You better start spilling the beans or I’ll invade your lab as soon as I get free from my boss._ ”

The doors to the elevator open, and Barry steps out of it, rolling his eyes “There’s nothing to say,” he tells her “You probably already heard it all from Steve—I’m never going to call him for advice _ever again_.”

Iris huffs on the other side of the line, but it sounds amused rather than annoyed “ _Of course you’re never asking Steve for advice again! You should’ve come to **me** first, not to Steve and Bucky!_ ”

“I called just _Steve_ , not Bucky,” Barry tells her, fully aware that it’s a terrible excuse “And it’s not like I didn’t try calling _you_! You weren’t answering my calls!”

There’s a soft hum on the other side, as Iris starts thinking “ _I probably was on a date with Eddie_ ,” his best friend confesses, “ _But never mind that! You **texted** Steve about your **boy** trouble before you told **me**! I’m hurt, Bartholomew! Hurt and offended that you didn’t come to speak to your best friend about this_.”

Barry rolls his eyes “Steve is also my best friend, Iris,” he tells her, calmly, as he side steps to avoid being hit by a running kid “And, I mean, it’s settled. This was nothing, Iris. Maybe it was meant to be that I didn’t tell you so you didn’t get your hopes up about me getting a relationship.”

_“What do you mean it’s **settled**?” _ he really hates it when Steve and Iris share intel about him with each other “ _According to Steve you went crazy for two straight days about this guy before completely abandoning ship! I wanna know what that’s all about._ ”

“Well, isn’t it normal? People lose interest in other people all the time.”

Barry is hoping that that will end his conversation, but of course Iris has something else to say _“Oh, **please**. I have known you since we were in our diapers! This isn’t like you!” _ his friend sounds more distressed by the second, and Barry really would love it if his friends weren’t so invested in his romantic life _“When you get interested in someone, you go all rose colored lenses on them and don’t drop them unless they do an unspeakable thing_.”

“Maybe he did an unspeakable thing, who knows,” Barry says, trying to sound nonchalant as he steps into the coffee shop, where there’s a line of people already waiting for their orders.

He heaves a sigh and gets in line behind some person he doesn’t know or recognize—probably Clint’s usual costumers—and changes his phone from one ear to the other “Look, Iris, it’s _nothing_. I had a crush on a guy, but he doesn’t seem interested, and I’m fairly sure he has _something_ going on with Tony Stark,” he tells her “And that’s _fine_! I can’t compete with Tony Stark, that’d be crazy!”

_“Oh my god, Steve was right—you’re backing off because you’re **insecure** ,” _Barry is seriously _never_ going back to Steve for advice on things “ _Barry, if you keep stepping aside from potential relationship because you think you aren’t good enough, you’re never getting a relationship._ ”

Barry squeezes his eyes shut, already feeling a headache blossoming in his temples, and sighs “Iris, can you please _drop this_? I understand why you are concerned, but I really don’t need to be thinking about a relationship right now,” he tells her, quietly “Plus, it’s not like I know this guy at all, you know? We’ve barely spoken to each other—it’s just a silly attraction to a very good-looking man.”

The forensic scientist was already at the counter when his best friend decided to finally drop the whole ordeal, but if he noticed Clint’s eavesdropping at all, he didn’t say a peep about it.

//

“Your blue eyed honey went by at lunch time again,” is Clint’s opening sentence when he breaks into his and Hal’s apartment for the third time that week—Jordan has to remind him he _owns_ a key “ _And_ he had something interesting to say over the phone to someone named Iris.”

This piques Hal’s interest right away “Barry was there?” he asks, head poking out from behind his kitchen island “What did he say?”

Clint takes Tony’s beer right out of his hands, earning him an outraged squeak as he took a good swing out of the bottle as he sat down on the opposite side of the couch “Yeah, he was there,” he repeated, looking smug as Hal’s face only grew more impatient “He was talking on the phone—I think he was talking about _you_.”

Oliver, who had only arrived minutes earlier before Clint climbed in through the window, rolled his eyes and threw another beer at Tony from his place at the refrigerator “Just _out with it_ , Clint, don’t make the man suffer any more than he needs to.”

“I don’t know, Ollie,” Clint pouted, trying to look adorable while he did so “I think my hearing aids weren’t working that well when he arrived—maybe I didn’t hear it well enough.”

Tony wiggled in his place in order to kick Clint’s thigh more efficiently from where he was sitting in the three-seater “Stop being a little shit, Barton! We all wanna know if Hal’s getting some!”

Clint stuck his tongue out at Tony “Well, all I’m saying is I want something in exchange.”

“Clint, I swear to god,” Hal tries to threaten from his place, but it comes out more desperate than angered “I’ll get you a date with Natasha if that’s what’s going to get you to talk.”

Oliver slaps at Tony’s leg from where it’s still poking at Barton’s side, and then falls back on the seat between the two men, sighing at the looming headache as he turns towards Clint’s beaming face “Come on, you got what you wanted. _Out with it_.”

The lunch-time barista thumbs at his hearing aids absentmindedly, humming a little as if remembering the conversation he had eavesdropped on earlier that day “I didn’t really hear the entire conversation, but he seemed pretty upset by whatever his friend was saying,” his hand comes down to scratch at his stubble then “But I did hear him say he had, and I quote, _a silly attraction to a very good-looking man_.”

Tony leans to one side to be able to take a look at Clint from around Oliver’s form “That’s _it_?” he says, voice shrill “You’re gonna get Hal killed to get you a date with Natasha for _that_? Its _obvious_ Blue Eyes has got it bad for Jordan over here! Have you seen the man?”

That’s enough to have them both yelling at each other from opposite sides of the couch, as Ollie tries his best to keep them from killing each other. Hal stares at his three friends with absent eyes, watching as Tony slings one of his legs over Queen’s shoulders in order to hit Barton’s face somehow, and Clint retaliating by leaning over his friend to grab Tony’s shirt to yank him towards him so he can mess with his precious hair a little bit.

The morning barista doesn’t have it in himself to laugh at their new argument, or even try his hand at saving his best friend from being mauled over by the other two idiots—he’s too busy thinking about the information Clint had just conferred him with, trying to understand what it all meant in the grand scheme of things.

So, Barry thought he was attractive. Tony was wrong when he said that that vital piece of intel was useless, because Hal found himself feeling a little bit more confident about his advances towards the blond. He wasn’t sure where the crush had come from—and in such a short amount of time, too—but Hal had welcomed it with open arms and had tried his best to let the other know he was interested _from the moment the scientist had stepped into his shop just six days ago_.

But, of course, Tony’s visit had to ruin _everything_ (and he had told him as much), because ever since his two old time friends had come up to Central City to visit Clint and himself, Barry had suddenly backed off. He realized Thursday that it _had_ been his fault for bantering with Tony like they were an old married couple, but it wasn’t like he could stop himself from doing it either way.

He _had_ missed his friend, after all.

Heaving one last, pained sigh, Hal put his beer back down in the kitchen island, before walking around it towards the couch. Ollie was still trying his best at keeping the other two away from each other, but it seemed he was fighting a losing battle since Tony and Clint were already grabbing at each other on top of him like two dogs fighting over a bone.

“O-kay,” he drawled out, grabbing the back of Tony’s shirt to pull him back towards him—far away from Barton “Come here, you stupid rich kid, that’s enough fighting for today.”

Tony makes a sound that sounds a lot like a growl, but he lets himself be pulled away by his friend “Oliver’s a stupid rich kid, too—call _him_ a stupid rich kid.”

Said stupid rich kid rolls his eyes and pins Clint to the couch with one arm, looking at him once threateningly to stop the man from squirming “Why is It that _every time_ we come together you and Stark end up hitting each other?”

Barton huffs, struggles against his friend’s muscle one more time to no avail, and falls back on the couch “It’s how we show _affection_ ,” he says, almost proudly “At least I don’t _bang_ Stark—oh no, Hal got that covered _way_ back in high school.”

And then it’s Hal lunging at Clint, completely forgetting his previous dilemma over the forensic scientist that stole his heart the moment he walked into the coffee shop.

//

After the whole Steve and Iris ganging up on him ordeal, Barry was all against the idea of picking Steve and Bucky at the airport come Sunday. Iris had insisted—had even pulled the puppy dog eyes on him that worked charms on her male friend trio—and then Allen hadn’t been able to resist. They’ve been there all morning, holding welcome back signs and badly made posters with Steve and Bucky’s complete names on them—and Barry was beginning to warm up to the idea.

Because the moment Steve and Bucky stepped into the airport lobby, clad in their uniforms and with bags slung over their shoulders, Barry couldn’t help the sense of relief that washed over him.

As a wide grin spread across the blonde’s face, both he and his best friend dropped their posters and signs in favor of running over to the missing pair of their jigsaw puzzle. Barry was in front of the two military men in a second, throwing his arms around them both and bringing them together in a hug, Iris mere steps behind him. Shuffling a little bit for a couple of moments, the taller men moved their arms around both their friends, bringing the woman into the middle of their mix as they settled for a more comfortable position.

Barry had his face buried somewhere in Steve’s collarbone, head atop the crown of Iris’s head, while one of Bucky’s arms come to wrap around Barry’s shoulders, head coming to rest on the side of a blond head.

This is the closest they’ve been to a Snuggle Pile since Bucky and Steve left for their second tour eight months ago, and they’re all deeply aware of how everyone is looking at them—the fact is: they don’t really care. There are tears in Barry’s eyes, and he buries his face deeper against the fabric of Steve’s uniform, tightening his hold against his friends’ side as a soundless sob wrecks his body.

_They’re here_ , he tells himself, _they’re here and they’re alive._

Under him, Iris shifts to press herself against Bucky’s chest instead, and Barry feels her shake a little with her own repressed sobs. He knows she’s thinking the same thing that’s going through his mind at the moment, holding on to James for dear life with her right arm while still leaving a lingering touch on Steve’s waist with her left—it’s like, much like Barry himself, she can’t decide who to hold on to, afraid that if she holds only one of them, the other will disappear.

Back to the battlefield.

It takes them a while to finally pull themselves together—and Barry can feel Steve’s irregular breathing where he’s leaning on his collarbone, and can hear Bucky’s sniffling against the side of his head even if he’s trying to keep himself as quiet as possible—but they manage to do it after a while has passed; once they’ve had enough of holding on to each other, arms slide off shoulders, and heads get picked up from what they had been leaning against.

“Welcome home, boys.”

Iris is the one to say it—Barry is still too much of an emotional wreck, and he doesn’t quite trust his voice—and the two soldiers smile brightly at them both, leaning down to grab the bags they had dropped on the floor to hoist them up again.

“S’good t’be home,” Bucky says, voice frayed at the edges, but filled with happiness “Would it be right t’hope we’re getting’ some home-cooked meal tonight or is that stretchin’ it too far?”

Barry’s the one who grins then, throwing an arm around Steve ( _God_ , he’s forgotten how big this guy is) and starting to guide him towards the airport’s main entrance.

“There might be something waiting at the apartment, yeah.”

//

Steve and Bucky are back _home_.

It doesn’t take long for the boys to get comfortable in Barry’s apartment, throwing bags and discarding uniforms as soon as they’ve stepped through the threshold. Iris chastises them only briefly, saying something about people appreciating a good-looking man in a good suit, but it lacks any fire and it dies as soon as the two of them are comfortable in sweatpants and plain t-shirts.

Barry ran to the kitchen first chance he got, pulling out and sticking plates in the microwave, asking the other three members of the group to get the table ready for them. Bucky’s the only one that groans and whines about getting the work done, but he’s quickly shut down by one of Iris’s looks (which she learned from Peggy, no doubt) and gets right to work next to Steve.

They’re sitting around the table in about twenty minutes, swapping stories back and forth between the two city residents and their two visitors. Bucky says something about Barry changing his beautiful red couch (“It was a _roadkill couch_ , Buck—I wasn’t going to keep it once I found out”) and they start bickering back and forth about meaningless things.

It’s the way their friendship has always worked, and it’s nice to have the routine back after eight months of just being two.

“Whoa, whoa, _wait_ ,” Bucky starts, bringing his fork up to point at Barry “ _You_ have a _boy_ to tell us about.”

Barry can feel his ears heating up then, and he shoves a forkful of food into his mouth to avoid answering his friends’ curious stares. He’s sure he told Iris to just back off entirely about the whole ordeal, but it was obvious his two military buddies were still going to be pressuring him about it as soon as they got the chance to sit down and talk.

“There’s nothing to say,” he mumbles, ducking his head to hide away from Steve’s piercing blue eyes behind the pitcher of juice in the middle of the table.

“Didn’t I say something about _telling him myself_ if you didn’t ask him out when we got back?” Rogers say, arching an eyebrow as he leans to one side to grab Barry’s eyes again “Wasn’t that our deal?”

Barry pouts, although he’s sure it doesn’t come off quite as pissed off as he’s feeling since his cheeks are still burning a bright pink “I didn’t make a deal with you.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, pokes Barry’s side with his fork, earning him a startled yelp “You were _gushing_ about him. There’s no way you just lost interest like that—you don’t do that, Allen.”

Iris coughs into her hand opposite to Bucky, trying to hide her laughter probably, and shakes her head a little “That’s what I said,” she says “But he doesn’t listen to me and he’s told me to drop the thing entirely.”

“As if,” Steve snorts, sneaking a glance at James’s determined expression before his eyes are settling back on Barry “You’re not getting out of this one easily, Allen—you’re gonna tell us ‘bout this barista in _full detail_ and then we’ll decide what your next action should be.”

Barry looks at Steve, biting his lower lip, and considers the idea for a full 5 seconds before Bucky is poking at his side again, urging him. The forensic scientist gives another yelp, and slaps his friend’s hand again with a glare, earning him a snicker and the flash of a tongue.

“So?” Steve presses “Should we break out the ice cream?”

Iris bites her lip, looking at Barry expectantly for an entire minute.

“Fine!” Barry gives in, rolling his eyes so hard the rest of the people in the apartment worry that he might hurt himself “But we’ll do it sans the ice cream—I ate the last cup yesterday.”

Bucky makes an exaggerated sound next to him, bringing his hand up to his chest in an act of mock offense, and pulls his fork back into view to hiss at his friend.

“Heathen.”


	5. the two of us so out of place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday usually means new beginnings. Hal is very fond of his best friends, but not enough to keep him away from his favorite costumer. Barry gets a surprise visit that ruffles Steve’s feathers, but ultimately opens his eyes.

Hal wakes up the next morning with a terrible hangover, and Oliver’s snoring.

Not his finest awakening, he must admit, but he still finds himself smiling against all odds, thinking about how he truly missed waking up this way.

Tony is sprawled out in the bed next to him, drooling unattractively against the pillow as his chest falls and rises evenly with deep breaths. To his left, Clint has claimed the old cot he keeps hidden in his closet, blankets tangled around his middle section as he hugs a pillow, mumbling in his sleep. And on the floor, in a makeshift nest Barton had prepared him for the night (and wasn’t that _cute_?) Oliver lied on his back, snoring away contentedly without a care in the world.

He sits in his bed, basking in the calm and the companionship of his long time best friends, before his alarm blares through the room, effectively cutting the moment short.

Clint wakes up screaming, flailing in the cot for a few minutes before promptly falling to the floor in a heap of long limbs and blankets, while Oliver simply shoots upright and stares around the room suspiciously as if he was about to get attacked by Hal’s alarm clock. Tony’s the last to wake up, brown eyes opening ever so slowly as he starts to adjust to his surroundings—Hal still wonders how he does that waking up slowly thing.

“Good morning, sleeping beauties!” Hal chirps happily, instantly regretting it as his headache flares momentarily and he winces “I hate to burst your hungover bubble, but there’s a job to attend to.”

Clint groans from his place in the floor “Bullshit. _You_ have to go to work—my shift isn’t until lunch-time.”

“Yeah, man, what the fuck,” Oliver says from his own place, lowering back down into his pillow as he rubs at his eyes—he’s probably sporting a headache of his own “ _Stupid rich boys_ like Stark and I don’t have to earn a living, you asshole.”

(Hal’s sure it’s supposed to sound bitter, but Ollie really has no fire to fight that morning after partying for two consecutive days that weekend.)

Tony flops over to his side, burying his face against Hal’s pillow and resting a hand against his friend’s thigh, patting it twice “Call in sick,” he says “You too, Clint—let’s just take a day off,” then, as an afterthought, he adds “We do have to earn a living, _idiot_. At least I know _I_ do.”

“We’re taking a _break_ , don’t be an ass and go back to sleep.”

Tony says something, but it comes out as complete gibberish against the pillow. He pats Hal’s thigh again, snuggling closer and wrapping an arm around the barista’s waist—Jordan knows that’s code for _please don’t leave_ , but he finds out he’s feeling responsible today.

“I can’t,” he tells Tony softly, taking his arm and pushing it aside to slide out of bed, careful not to step on Clint, who still hasn’t gotten up from the floor “Ollie, you can move to the bed if you want, I’ll go get ready for work.”

There’s a confused sound coming from Tony’s place in the bed, but Hal doesn’t pay too much attention to it as he exits the room and slides into the bathroom to get ready.

His shower is quick, taking only enough time under the spray to release the tension in his muscles and subdue the headache a bit before he takes some pain killers and grabs some breakfast. He steps into his usual work clothes, passing a quick hand through his hair to keep it in its usual fashion, and he peeks inside his room one more time to check on his friends.

Clint has ditched the cot in favor of squeezing into the bed next to Tony, taking up his old habit of cuddling any and all people that he finds in his path, making Stark his latest victim. Oliver scooted over enough so that they could all fit in the bed, and he seems content enough with just one arm slung over his other two friends, face buried in the pillow as his snoring takes up again.

They seem peaceful, and Hal can’t help the small warmth blossoming in the middle of his chest as he backs away and goes to his small kitchen area, where he downs his much desired pain killers and whips up a quick breakfast for himself. He doesn’t have time to prepare a meal for his visitors (and it’s not like his food is actually edible), but he does leave three glasses of water at the ready and three sets of pain killers close to them, a little sticky note attached to the counter beside them.

_‘Seriously offended I didn’t get invited to the Snuggle Pile, but I figure I had it coming for waking you up after a night of partying because I wanted to go see if my favorite costumer came back._

_I’ll take over Clint’s shift so he can rest. I’ll be back around 5 pm_

_–Hal’_

//

His favorite costumer doesn’t appear all day, and Hal feels his heart sinking in his ribcage when the clock strikes four thirty and Jessica tells him he’s free to go home.

He’s probably not coming back.

//

Hal will kill him if he finds out.

It is true that Tony made Oliver and Clint swear on their lives that they wouldn’t tell Hal what he was up to, be it that the barista came back before Stark himself did, but the young CEO wasn’t so sure that he could trust Queen from _not_ running his mouth like he usually did when it came to important things.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, pushing the door to the police department open and stepping inside with only a hint of hesitation.

“Sir,” a voice to his right calls out to him, and he stops in his tracks “I’m going to have to ask you to take off the cap.”

Tony turns to smile sheepishly at the police officer stationed there, and brings his hand up to get rid of the thing—best not to act like a spoiled brat and cause a scene in the middle of a police station.

“Sorry, officer,” he says, and tries not to grin at the flash of recognition that passes through the police man’s eyes “I guess I was just trying to have a low profile today.”

The officer—Landon? Tony thinks that’s what his nametag says—instantly straightens up in his position, smiling a little unsurely at the station’s new visitor, before worry settles on his (very handsome) features.

“Is everything okay, Mister Stark?” he asks, concern lacing his voice “Is there anything you would like to report?”

Tony looks to both sides when his name is said, making sure that he still doesn’t have a lot of attention, and then smiles reassuringly at the young officer stationed at the entrance. He must not be any older than twenty-two, and Tony’s head momentarily flashes to Rhodes, God knows where defending his country in his fifth tour—he shakes those thoughts away again, and tries to focus on the matter at hand.

(He can’t blame it on any alcohol anymore, so he’ll just pin this on his considerable lack of attention.)

“None of that, Officer…” he trails of, squinting at the name tag to get a clearer view of it so as to not say the wrong name “Officer Landon, is that it?”

The boy nods, smiling “Officer Keith Landon, at your service, Mister Stark, sir.”

(Oh that’s _adorable_.)

“Well, Officer Landon,” he begins once again, turning his charm on “I’m not here on any business, if I’m being honest—I’m here on a bit of a personal thing,” Landon only nods at him once, shifting into his façade of serious police officer when the words are said “I’m here looking for a friend? Barry, from the forensic lab department?”

Keith’s face brightens in recognition, before a short, confused look takes over “Allen? New guy ‘round here; has gotten plenty of visits on his three weeks here, though,” he smiles a little then “Agent Carter right on the first day he started working, Miss West the next week; today we have Captain Rogers up there chatting him up—he seems to be a pretty popular guy.” 

Tony doesn’t really care for any of that, but he does his best impression at keeping up with what’s being said.

“Yeah, I guess we all want to congratulate him on getting the job,” he explains, simply “Is he in his lab at the moment?”

Officer Landon nods, smiling warmly at the CEO “Yeah, he just came back from lunch; would you like me to let him know you’re here to see him?”

“No!” Tony panics, answers a little bit too fast, before he falls back into a sheepish smile and tries to fix his mistake “I mean—I want it to be a surprise! Would you mind pointing me to the general direction of the lab so I can be on my way?”

“I could walk you there, Mister Stark, sir.”

Tony leans over to squeeze Landon’s bicep (and _wow_ , that’s some muscle!) but shakes his head “That would be alright, wouldn’t want you to get scolded for leaving your post,” he says “Just, point me to where I’m supposed to be headed and I’ll be on my way.”

//

“All I’m saying is that you should really try it.”

Steve’s been repeating the same phrase all day, and it’s beginning to drive Barry a little bit crazy.

“Steve, why can’t you just _drop it_?” he asks, whirling around in his place to shoot Rogers what he hopes is his best angry pout “I’m telling you I don’t want to do it! Why are you so pushy about this?”

The army captain doesn’t look fazed by this, twirling some sort of contraption around in his hands, his attention only halfway at Barry “Because I thrive from being a pain in your butt.”

Barry huffs out, leaning against the table he’d been working over, and crossing his arms over his chest to take a good look at his friend sitting across the room from him.

Steve had insisted to go back with him to the lab after lunch, leaving him no option to say _no_ , and following him back to the precinct like a lost puppy trailing behind his owner. Barry usually never had qualms with letting Steve (or Bucky, or even Peggy, when she was in the country) accompany him everywhere when he was back from a particularly long tour, but today he had wanted to keep as far away from his army counterpart as was possible.

As soon as he had started talking about Hal from the coffee shop the night before, Bucky and Steve had become obsessed with the idea of getting him a date with the man, going so far as threatening to go the goddamn place and ask the man himself. Iris, of course, ever the amazing woman she was, had put a damper on their ridiculous idea, respecting Barry’s earlier wishes of just _dropping_ the whole thing entirely.

Of course, that hadn’t stopped Bucky and Steve from trying their best at meddling, staying up almost all night with beers in hand and trying to convince Barry from asking the guy out himself.

It had been a tiring night, sure, but Allen was just glad to have them both back—even when his apartment was _way_ too small to fit three grown men in, especially men that looked like Steve and Bucky.

“Look,” Steve began again, setting down the contraption with delicacy “I know you just started your job, and that you probably think getting into a relationship right now is absolutely useless since you’re still trying to figure things out,” _huh_ , Barry had never thought of that “But this guy had you tripping over yourself in less than a _day_ —if you don’t think that’s worth something, then I don’t really know what to tell you.”

“Yeah! Blondie’s right!” the third voice interrupting their argument almost makes Barry jump a foot in the air— _almost_ , but not quite.

“Who—?” Steve begins, looking over Barry’s shoulder just as he’s turning around to face the entrance to the lab “Tony Stark?”

Barry’s eyes are wide as saucers when he finally turns to completely face the door, and he feels his brain short-circuit with the image it’s trying to process—Tony Stark, leaning against the door frame, rid of the suits and fancy shirts Barry had seen him in on earlier dates, wearing a plain t-shirt that seemed too big on him, sweatpants that rode pretty low on his hips, and a baseball cap hanging from his left hand.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Barry’s question doesn’t come out as strong as he would like, but he blames that on his usual awkwardness. “Is-is Hal here with you?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, standing up off his seat “Tell me you brought your barista friend so Barry can stop being an idiot.”

Barry shoots him a look over his shoulder, one that tells Rogers to _shut the fuck up_ but that only earns him Steve’s Dazzling Smile #6.

“Yeah— _no_ ,” Tony says, rolling his eyes “He’d kill me if he knew I was here, if I’m being honest, but whatever—I’m here on a mission.”

“What?” Barry’s head can’t quite wrap itself around the concept of having Tony Stark in the entrance of his lab, even when only days ago he’d seen him bantering back and forth with Hal at a coffee shop on the corner of 5th and Dryades Street. 

“I’m here to get _you_ to stop being an idiot,” Tony says simply, smiling brightly at Barry “Because you haven’t been to that shop in a couple of days except when it’s lunch time and Clint is bartending—and honestly? You’re making my friend _miserable_. Which— _not_ fun, by the way. He’s been spending Oliver and my visit moping around like a love-sick puppy.”

Barry opens his mouth to say something, but Steve is quick to take over “Wait, wait—you’re telling me _your_ friend is interested in _my_ friend as well?”

Tony stares at Steve for the longest time, seizing him up with his eyes, and Barry can see the moment Rogers’ courage leaves him all at once, shuffling awkwardly in his place as brown eyes sweep him from top to bottom. In the captain’s defense, the look Stark was giving him was anything but innocent, and _that_ could not be nice to go through.

“Yeah,” Tony finally says, grinning up at Steve now that he has finished his inspection “Hal is very much interested in this one over here—dunno how that could be when there’s someone like you around; have you ever been to the coffee shop? Wait, no, don’t answer that, you’ve obviously never been around and you _have_ to promise me _never_ to set foot in that shop.”

Barry tries not to feel offended at that—he _is_ painfully aware of how he pales in comparison to Steve, especially when they’re standing side to side like this.

“Hey, any guy or girl who Barry was interested in would be a lucky one,” Steve says firmly, suddenly regaining his composure and _definitely_ reading Barry’s self-deprecating thoughts “He’s very good-looking and an amazing catch—your friend is only ever so lucky that _my_ friend is crushing on him.”

The forensic scientist _knows_ that his friend is trying to help, but really, confessing to his crush’s friend that he is, in fact, crushing hard on him is _not_ what Barry would call helping.

“Sure thing, Hot Stuff,” Tony says, still grinning impishly at Steve “It’s not like you have to sell your friend to Hal anymore—guy’s already gone with how much he’s mooning over Barry—it _was_ Barry, right?—over here. There’s nothing to convince _me_ of, either, it’s not like I’m gonna steal my best friend’s catch away.”

“Look here, _sir_ ,” Steve starts, coming to put his arms up on Barry’s shoulders (as a sign of support or comfort, he’s not sure) “I don’t care what _your_ intentions are, but you seem to have the same goal that I do—getting your friend a date with mine,” he says, keeping his voice even “So, I’m going t’let you say what you came here t’say only if you assure me that you won’t be insulting my friend any longer.”

Tony raises an eyebrow at that, a weird expression flashing over his eyes for a second before it’s completely gone, and then he’s smiling again “Fine,” he says “Just one more.”

Barry steels himself for what’s coming, leaning back against Steve’s touch as a form of reassurance.

“You’re being a dull-headed _asshole_ ,” Stark says, almost bored, but he’s quick to bring up a hand when Steve opens his mouth to argue against that “Ever since you saw me in that coffee shop, you’ve backed away from Hal like he was a flame and he was burning you—which is not the case, because I know for a fact Hal Jordan is a very agreeable person to hang out with, and you really have _no_ reason to be hiding the way you’re hiding right now.”

“I’m not--,” Barry tries to excuse himself, but his interruption earns him a hard glare coming from brown eyes.

It shuts him right up.

“You _are_ hiding—and you’ve been doing so ever since you saw me and Hal interacting,” he heaves a sigh, like what he’s about to say pains him greatly “And _okay_ , it’s intimidating, I suppose, seeing Hal talking to someone like me—but that’s hardly a reason to back off entirely from a guy that’s been nothing but doting since the first time you walked into his coffee shop.”

“But,” Barry begins again, hesitantly, waiting to see if Tony won’t shut him up again. Once it’s clear to keep talking, he continues “I thought you and him? Were…well—together?”

To which Tony’s brain probably short-circuits, jaw slack and eyebrow raised in a perfect arch—and _hey_ , those are some nice eyebrows. The CEO doesn’t say anything for a long time, and Steve turns to look at Barry, concerned, mouthing something like ‘ _Is he okay?’_ that only earns him a confused noise and the shake of Barry’s head.

“Okay, okay—excuse my language right now but,” Tony finally speaks up, but his face is still confused, trying to compute “ _What the fuck_?” his voice turns a pitch higher, and Barry winces with the force of his words “Are you _seriously_ saying that you saw me and Hal do our usual routine of banter and you ran the other way because you _thought_ we were together?”

Barry doesn’t think he wants an answer, but when Tony makes an urging noise, like he really _is_ expecting an answer, he just nods his head, not trusting his voice in the slightest.

“Okay, again— _what the fuck_?” Stark’s confusion turned to anger, and Steve pulls Barry one step back, giving on in front himself like a mother bear protecting its cub— _damn it, Steve_! “No, no! You don’t get to do that and put yourself in front of him like he’s a little thing you need to protect—this is ridiculous! Did you hear what he said? _Did you listen to his pathetic excuse for backing away_?”

Now, _that_ hurts. Barry thinks Stark is being unfair to him.

“Yeah, of _course_ I heard it!” Steve retaliates—and _god damn it, Steve_ you aren’t supposed to be on _his_ side “I heard it on Thursday over the phone and I heard it personally yesterday night when I got here. I am very well aware that my friend tends to overthink stuff and make excuses for himself when there _really_ is no reason to make excuses—but _you_ are the one who doesn’t get to do the whole yelling thing at him because that’s Iris and Peggy’s job!”

Barry pouts a little, hits Steve lightly on the back, “Shut up, Rogers—you’re being an ass.”

Tony heaves a sigh, brings his hand up to his temple to rub at it ineffectually “No, he’s only _got_ an ass,” he says simply, as if pained by it “Look, stud, I didn’t come here to get into a screaming match with you—or with _him_ ,” he points at the general direction of where Barry is standing, still hiding behind his hand.

“Then don’t insult my friend,” Steve starts again, and then, as an afterthought, adds “And _please—_ don’t _ever_ say anything about my ass again.”

Barry would’ve been surprised if Steve hadn’t said anything about the _ass_ comment.

“Okay, _fine_ ,” Tony begins again, putting his hand away and smiling brightly at the two blonds “No more screaming, or insulting, or _anything else_. All I came here to say was that _you,”_ he points _straight_ at Barry this time, eyes narrowing “Need to _go back to the coffee shop_ and give my buddy a chance—god knows Hal deserves it.”

Barry bites his lip, sets a hand on Steve’s shoulder to push him to the side softly, and speaking up hesitantly again “So, Hal is _interested in me_?”

Tony shuts his eyes, shakes his head a little, and then tries to smile again “ _Yes_ , B _artholomew_ ,” the CEO practically hisses, and Barry can hear Steve’s quiet chuckle behind him “Harold Jordan is very much crushing on _you_ and would love to woo the fuck out of you in this century, if it was possible. And _no—_ god, _no_ —he and I are _not_ involved romantically _or_ sexually—that was a very long time ago and it was like fucking a brother so never doing that again.”

Both Steve and Barry shoot him a mortified look and he waves a hand in the air “ _Whatever_ , it doesn’t matter!” he exclaims, losing his patience “My best friend is infatuated with you, alright? And I would like it _very much_ if I could enjoy his company while I’m here visiting _without_ him moping about the blond guy who won’t give him the time of the day.”

Barry just stands there, processing what he’s being told.

“Are we _clear_?” Tony starts, and Barry nods, almost eagerly “Good. Then I guess I’ll take my leave,” he puts his cap back on, huffing softly “If you’re not at the coffee shop tomorrow, just remember I know where you work and that I’m a very powerful man.”

“Sir, is that a threat?” Steve questions, taking a step forward as Tony turns on his heels.

Tony stops in his tracks, turns to smile at Steve, and shakes his head “For you? It’s an offer to a date.”

(Barry is going to have such a fun time with that.)


	6. what if we ruin it all and we love like fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesdays are officially the best day of the week.

“He’s not coming.”

It’s not a question, but rather a simple statement that echoes around the almost empty coffee shop as Hal prepares Natasha’s drink. The business woman arches a delicate eyebrow at him, pursing her lips as she reaches over to take the drink out from Hal’s hands. When she doesn’t receive and immediate answer at her silent inquire, Natasha sighs and yields.

“You mean Blue Eyes?”

Hal nods, looking miserable, but it’s Tony who answers “He thinks _I_ chased Blue Eyes away,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter to look at Natasha “Can you believe the _nerve_ to say something like that, Nat?”

The business woman only lets out an amused breath through her nose, shaking her head as leaves her usual tip “I’m sure Hal has very good reasons for thinking that, Stark,” she tells the other man, earning her an undignified squeak from the CEO “But really, Hal, don’t worry too much about it, I’m sure he’ll be back around.”

Hal pouts a little, to which Natasha only rolls her eyes and turns on her high heels to walk away, waving a hand goodbye at both men. She’s been frequenting this coffee shop since Hal started working here a couple of months ago, and Hal couldn’t really be more grateful to have such a friendly face come to his shop every day, even if it was just to talk to him—to make his day more bearable.

(It’s not like he had planned to Serve Coffee for the rest of his life, so the distraction was kind of nice.)

“I did _nothing_ ,” Tony says from besides him, and Hal can actually pay full attention now without feeling guilty because Natasha was the last costumer in line and now the shop is empty “It’s not my fault he’s so dense he can’t see you’re _obviously_ flirting with him.”

Hal rolls his eyes at that—because _of course_ Tony would say something like that “Shut up, man. This is all your fault—I’m never inviting you over to see me work ever again.”

Tony pouts, narrowing his eyes at Hal as if he was thinking about all the different ways to shove him into the trash can outside of the establishment “You love me. You invite me to work because I’m your friend and we barely get to see each other. Why is that going to change over a guy you know _nothing_ about other than he has nice eyes?”

The barista only turns to squint at Tony, before he’s pulling the other one down, trapping the Stark Industries’ CEO under one arm and mercilessly ruffling his dark hair. Stark only lets out a scared yelp as he’s being pulled down, and then tries to struggle against Hal, who is obviously stronger than him despite Tony’s years in self-defense. The scuffle brings the attention of some of the few patrons that are sitting down at the shop, and if the two friends notice the cameras that are being pulled out or the pictures that are being taken, they decide not to say anything about it.

“Jordan!” Tony manages to squeak out, pushing at Hal’s arms with as much force as he can “Jordan! Get the hell off of me, you jerk! _¡Maldita sea, Hal!_ _¡Suéltame! ¡Deja mi pelo en paz! ¿Qué te pasa, maldito hijo de tu--?”_

The shop’s doorbell brings them out of their fight, as both men instantly let go of each other to appear presentable in front of a new costumer—Hal _does_ have a job to keep, thank you very much.

“Barry!” Hal’s voice comes out a little more excited than it should, but he couldn’t really help himself “You’re here! I thought you weren’t coming today.”

The blue eyed man throws him a sheepish smile, shrugging a little bit as he approaches the counter, eyes flicking towards Tony only momentarily “Yeah, I got up _way_ too late today—and last Friday I got this field call and Saturday was _way_ too busy around the station,” he says “Sorry about leaving you hanging, I guess.”

Hal thinks it’s absolutely adorable that the man is apologizing for something that isn’t even his obligation, and he offers his costumer a dazzling grin “Nah, it’s okay,” he assures “I was just a little worried, I suppose. I was thinking maybe Captain Frye had tried to kill you for not being on time with his coffee.”

That earns him a quiet smile, and a little laugh that doesn’t get any louder than a few decibels. Hal feels a warm sense of pride blooming in the middle of his chest while he starts on the blonde’s usual orders.

“I actually was here those days, though,” Barry confesses to him, looking a little ashamed “I was here around lunch time. It’s never too late to get coffee, according to my squad.”

Hal is going to say something, but Tony interjects, smiling almost pleasantly “There’s always time for coffee, Blue Eyes,” his friend says, and Hal tries his hardest not to roll his eyes or answer with more banter “I, for one, can’t function without coffee.”

Barry turns to look at Stark, smiling softly—and _wow_ , Hal has never seen a prettier smile than that “Well, word on the street is you’re a bit of a coffee junkie,” the forensic scientist tells the CEO “It does seem like that, too—I think, as the CEO of a very important company, you should be getting a little bit more sleep, no?”

“Rude,” Tony says, but there isn’t much fire behind his words—he’s only _smiling_ at Barry, as if he’s proud of something “Remaining awake is what keeps my company afloat.”

Hal sets down his third and fourth drink, shaking his head “ _Pepper_ keeps your company afloat, Tony—don’t lie to Bar.”

To that, the CEO and engineer simply crosses his arms across his chest, and turns away from Hal “All I’m saying is that his squad has a _point_ , and it never is too late for coffee.”

Barry laughs again, this time a little less quiet “Well, I don’t really drink coffee so…”

And then Tony looks like Barry personally offended his only child, and the Stark Industries’ CEO goes on a spiel about how _important_ and _dependable_ coffee can be, completely taking Barry’s attention away from Hal’s movements at the machine. In a split second decision that is probably going to get him into trouble, the barista grabs for a marker he keeps on his apron pocket for emergencies and scrawls something quickly on the side of the last drink he’s preparing.

“Done,” Hal beams at Barry, setting the cup down on the travelling pack with a smile, and praying  that Barry doesn’t see his message until later “I’m glad to have seen you again, Bar.”

Barry smiles back at him, taking the coffees with dexterous hands that have done this _way_ too many times, and then opens his mouth, hesitating only slightly before he speaks “Hal, I was actually hoping I could ask you something, if it’s okay?”

Hal blinks owlishly down at Barry, though his smile doesn’t leave “Sure, Barry! Hit me!”

“I was, well,” Barry shuffles awkwardly in his place, balancing the travelling trays in both his hands, a pink dust settling in his cheeks “I was wondering if you would, probably, hopefully, let me—well, not buy you coffee, because technically speaking I already buy coffee from _you_ , but I mean, I was thinking—you know there’s this restaurant my best friends and I always go to, and it’s _great_ , so I was thinking, hoping that you could—“

“Yeah!” Hal doesn’t wait for him to finish, answering with a little more enthusiasm than necessary, before re-thinking his life choices and calming down “I’m sorry! I was—were you asking me to dinner? Because if you are then my answer is most definitely yes!” he bites his lip, suddenly embarrassed “But, I mean, if you weren’t and you were just gonna say something else then—well, this would be awfully embarrassing.”

Barry laughs—actually _laughs_ —and Hal has never heard anything more beautiful than that “I was actually asking you to dinner, yeah,” he says, smiling sheepishly up at the barista “So, that’s a date?”

“Absolutely!” Hal is ecstatic! Positively brimming with joy! He’ll buy Oliver and Tony’s favorite fucking _wine_ after this! “It’s a date!”

//

Barry is back at the lab, thinking about how Hal and he hadn’t really set a date or exchanged numbers, too wrapped up in their excitement to actually think about the dinner they were supposed to have together soon, when Captain Frye comes in through the door, travel cup in hand, and a red color to his cheeks.

“Allen!” he bellows, making Barry jump almost a foot in the air, stammering out his response “Why the _fuck_ does my coffee say ‘ _Please call me’_ with a phone number and a kissy face scribbled at the bottom? What the _fuck_ is the meaning of this, Allen?”

Barry pales, stares at his Captain, and then promptly breaks out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part is supposed to be the stony part, but I have like three pages written of it so yeah--yeah...


End file.
